


Reminisce

by mercibun



Series: Wren's FF Stuff [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Backstory, Childhood Memories, Family Feels, Gen, Rowanflame is Gust, i didn't proofread this, i'd die for this disaster family tbh, not that there's anything i need to tag i don't think, tagging things properly? don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 05:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercibun/pseuds/mercibun
Summary: Tempestpaw thinks, with a rare lack of inhibition, about her family.





	Reminisce

She wasn't entirely sure why she was still awake. It was after moonhigh, and the camp was mostly asleep save for the occasional insomniac and the night's guards, but Tempestpaw hadn't been able to clear her mind. Too much had happened recently, and she needed to sort through it. So the young tabby she-cat padded to the edge of camp and crouched next to the river, curling her tail around her paws as she got comfortable. Her gaze drew upwards, and she found herself studying the stars. A voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like her mother's murmured _silverpelt_.

Tempestpaw thought, with a rare lack of inhibition, about her family.

Her father Amos had been intimidating to her as a kitten, built sturdy with dark fur like the night and glaring yellow eyes. But he'd always been gentle to her, to her litter, to their mother. An anchor, a comfort. He'd known so much, taught them so much; how to hunt, how to bargain, how to take advantage of twolegs so that they could get away safely and with a boon. Tempestpaw remembered, with some amusement, her litter using him as a rock or extra territory in some of their play-fights when he didn't want to get involved. When he did want to get involved, though ... she remembered him once rearing up to "attack" the "rogues" (who were Gust and Tempest).

Robinfoot, their mother, had never been the same sort of influence. She'd been wire-thin and fast, and Tempestpaw's most prominent memory of the cinnamon tabby she-cat was her jumping high into the air to catch a bird with her claws outstretched. Her front right and back left paws were the same snowy white that adorned Tempest's own features, and she remembered once remarking that their eyes were the same. She'd been witty, the apprentice recalled now, teaching them basic herblore and telling them stories of the Clans. Tem never did learn what Clan Robinfoot had hailed from, but now that she was in RiverClan, Tempestpaw wasn't as curious.

As for her littermates, Tempest had been the eldest. The only one that took Amos' stockier build and blue tabby fur that neither parent quite knew the origins of, she'd been the odd one out. Always watching, always keeping an eye out for her siblings. She was loyal, she was smart, and she was ready to die for them if the need arose. That need almost arose, more than once. It happened when Gale was scarred for life by a rogue attack on their family when they were mere moons old. To this day, the dark tabby still wished it had been her instead of her brother that bore the scars. She realised that she couldn't afford to feel for others if she wanted to keep them alive.

Next in the pecking order had been Gale. Second born, sneaker than all four of his siblings put together, and arguably the one that took after Robinfoot in terms of personality, and the wire-thin frame that made him outpace all of his littermates. He'd been all dark fur and green eyes and mystery, distinguishable from the shadows only by the white spot on his chin. Her last memory of him was when she ran away; he'd stirred when she moved past him, asked where she was going, and for a moment she considered staying. It was the only time she'd abandoned her family. Never again. But he was in BloodClan now, and she couldn't sleep soundly at night knowing that he was there.

Rain had been the middle kit. All grey tabby fur over a lithe frame so similar to their mother's, she'd been the optimistic one. Built of pride and thought, Tempestpaw remembered being jealous of her easy nature. Tempest's most notable memory of the younger she-cat was peaceful, watching the sun rise on the morning of their sixth moon-day, the sunlight reflecting off her yellow eyes. Even now, when the sweetheart was in RiverClan, Tempestpaw couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy; her sister had only been here briefly, and yet she was so well-liked already ...

Tem remembered the jeer of _half-Clan_ being thrown at her once, and would never forget it. But she would work to make sure her sister would never have to hear it.

The gentlest of them had been Gust, the spitting image of their mother in wiry build and cinnamon pelt and pale blue eyes, but with white markings more like Tempest's than Robinfoot's. Out of the five of them, Tem recalled him being the most eager to learn herblore from their mother, with an empathetic soul that had always distinguished him from his littermates. Her most prominent memory of her brother was attempting to egg him into a play-fight when they were very young; Gust had always been adamant that he didn't want to fight, and she thought him weird for it. She had lost contact with him when she'd left, and had yet to speak with him again since. Stars knew if he was still alive, let alone in the Clans.

As for the runt of their litter ... Tempest wasn't sure if Hail was still alive either.

When Robinfoot and Amos went their separate ways, Tempest and her siblings had been seven moons old. She remembered her parents arguing again, about what she didn't know, and the five of them had been brought out of their den. She had a sick feeling; family meetings like this were only ever called when something was about to go horribly wrong.

 _Your mother and I are no longer mates._ Amos had meowed, blunt as ever but not uncaring, but settling the stone in his daughter's gut. That was that, then. Life as she knew it was over. She didn't remember the rest of the discussion that the seven of them had, but she remembered that evening, when Amos left. He'd said goodbye to all of them in turn, told them he loved them, and then set off into the night. Tempest had felt ill to her stomach, betrayal working through her veins, and had been oddly silent as he said his goodbyes.

When the five young cats woke the next morning, Robinfoot had been gone as well.

It had shattered Tem's heart.

The remaining kits had never really been good at sorting out their own issues; they were barely apprentice-aged, after all. So they squabbled like birds, and Tempest grew steadily infuriated by it for a quarter moon until she stood up one evening and left while the others were asleep. Gale knew, she told him everything beforehand, but she knew it would sting when the others woke up.

It made her no better than Robinfoot, and Tempestpaw knew that. But she left anyway, desperate to find somewhere she felt like she could belong.

That journey had led her to RiverClan. She'd found friends, a mentor, a family. One day, she might find a mate. But for now, she was home. All she could hope for was that her missing littermates had found safety too.

Tempestpaw sniffled, and realised that her gaze had dropped down to the river as she thought. Pale blue eyes turned upwards again, towards the sky, and just for a moment she swore she saw a new star burn into existence, twinkling against the dark expanse.


End file.
